Up the Rockpile With 20 Extra Pounds

Mt. Washington and I have a bit of a checkered history. In 2002 I showed up at the start of the foot race to the summit, only to find that bad weather had forced the race to be cut down to only go half way up. I ignored the race for the next 8 years, then returned in 2010 to find that I actually enjoyed the race to the top - enjoyment that had a lot to do with near-perfect weather and a better result than I expected - 1:15:14, good for 50th place. Unlike most of my GBTC team-mates, I was planning to come back next year from the moment I finished.

But it was not to be. After a bout of injury in February this year, I spent a lot of time on the bike, and began my Mt. Washington training in mid-April. By early June I was ready for a tune-up race, the Pack Monadnock 10 miler, and a top-10 finish there within seconds of last year's time made me feel I was ready for Mt. Washington. Five days later, doing nothing more than an easy shakeout run, I felt my hamstring tighten to the point where I had to abort my run. It failed to improve in the 10 days before the Mt. Washington race, so there would be no running up the rock pile for me this year.

Once my non-starter status as a runner was confirmed, I started considering the option of entering one of the two bike races that go up the same road. I had 3 weeks to decide - fortunately the "overflow" race, a.k.a. Newton's Revenge, was not yet full. But as a bit of a cycling rookie, I wasn't sure I was willing to commit to that sort of challenge. I decided to try the Okemo hillclimb as a "proof of concept" and that went surprisingly well. That race climbs less than half as much as Mt. Washington, at a grade of 11% compared to almost 12% for Washington, and it was tough, but I placed well enough (19th from 114 finishers) to make me think Mt. Washington might be worth a shot.

There were enough moments on Okemo where I wished for a couple of extra gears that I decided some adjustments had to be made for Mt. Washington. Thanks to my crazy cycling friend Russ who got me started as a cyclist and who has done Washington a few times, I came to the conclusion that a 24-tooth front chainring was required, and with 8 days to go to the race, I found a shop in Boston to put one on for me. After a quick test of the new setup on the hills of Arlington, I entered the race.

One day before the race, on Russ' advice I removed my bike's rear brake to save a few grams, but resisted the temptation to remove the larger chainrings and front derailleur for fear of having too many untested changes on race day. (If this weight loss strategy seems extreme, note that a pound off the bike would translate into about 30 seconds of time improvement for a cyclist of my size and speed.)

Race day was warm and sunny at the starting elevation of 1500 feet, but we heard reports of 50+ mph winds at the summit. Fortunately, that was not enough to cause postponement of the race. We went off in 4 waves: the "Top Notch" wave reserved for those who had broken 1:20 in a prior race, then age-groups. The 45+ crowd, last to start, also included 2 tandems and 2 unicycles. Good to know I wasn't the craziest person there.

Determined not to go too hard too early, I let a dozen or more people get ahead of me as we started up the hill, and still I found myself breathing too hard for what was going to be a 70 minute or longer effort. I eased off and tried to find the right level to sustain for that duration, a tricky balancing act.

I had decided that beating my running time was a good goal, and that the way to approach that was to try to hit half way at about the same time I did in the foot race. However, for some reason I kept missing the mile and elevation markers by the side of the road, possibly because I was spending my mental energy thinking about gear choice, staying relaxed on the bike, not going to hard or too easy, and staying upright at an average speed of 6 mph. I did however reach half way (which, it turns out, is rather less than half way up in terms of elevation) just ahead of the 35 minute goal. Soon after than point, I decided to get out of the saddle for a little change of position, which required a downshift, and then when I sat down I had to upshift suddenly, which somehow sent my chain into the rear spokes. My bike came to a halt and with no time to unclip I fell over sideways. Fortunately there was no-one next to me. I unclipped, turned the bike over, unjammed the chain and got it back on the sprocket in what seemed like a few seconds, but then I couldn't remount the bike on such a steep slope. I kept getting the front wheel airborne as I tried to lift my unclipped foot off the ground. Eventually I managed to scoot the bike along and get clipped in and moving again with my heart pounding from adrenaline. I told myself to calm down and tried to resume my progress up the mountain. I had started to catch people from the wave in front of me at this point and I got some words of encouragement from the folks who had seen me crash. Thankfully bike and rider were in good shape (although my knee was bloody and would double in size later that day.)

Soon I hit the famous dirt section, and initially it was all good, with nice views out across the valley, but as it continued up around a hairpin I entered the clouds and felt the strong headwinds for the first time. I also found this section so steep that I was struggling to keep the front wheel down, but if I stood up the rear wheel slipped. As I passed a rider from 545 velo we shared some words of encouragement and I expressed my strong dislike for the dirt and the weather in language that needn't be repeated here.

It was great to be back on the paved road even as the weather worsened and I remember seeing the 5000 ft marker. I thought "Hmm, more than half of Okemo left" which probably wasn't the most positive attitude. I hit the 6 mile mark just inside the hour and realized that beating my running time wasn't assured. I tried to push every less steep section yet I also feared too many gear changes. Finally I reach 6000 feet - less than 300 feet of climbing to go. The excitement may have been too much, as my calf cramped precisely at that moment. "No cramps!" I yelled, and received some more encouragement as I passed another rider.

I knew that there was a flat section right before the infamous 22% "wall" and I managed to downshift and upshift without incident. Visibility was almost nonexistent, so I was glad I had seen the wall before and knew what to expect. Christy was there to cheer and I gave a fist pump, mostly to psych myself up as I approached it. What caught me by surprise was how curvy it was, and I came very close to the shoulder, but I was able to make my way up and then over the finish line, with 1:14 still showing on my watch. I could barely dismount, I was so wiped from the final "sprint".

Official time of 1:14:22, almost a minute under my running time, and certainly a much tougher day in terms of weather. Also no problems of stuck chains, banged knees or slipping wheels when you run it. I confess I had hoped to go a bit faster, but I have to admit that as a debutant in this event and a newbie to cycling, I can't complain. It was a great treat to find that I got 3rd in my age-group (even though the first two places were way in front of me) - my first ever "podium" in cycling. (How come runners don't have podiums?) And just as I said when I finished the race last year, I want to come back.

Since it's Tour de France week, it's amusing to compare Mt. Washington against the famous climbs in le Tour. It is steeper than any of the famous climbs, and higher than Alpe D'Huez - but, as local climbing guru Doug Jansen points out, those guys do the climbs at the end of long days in a 23-day tour. I bet they don't have 24 tooth chainrings either.